#boynextdoor fluff

"Yes, it's a nice mix of millionaires and billionaires." Your father, replies while smacking the hand of a servant with a newspaper. "Put the oyster fork at an angle! We're not animals, man." He scolds.

The Northwest manor was busy preparing for their annual party that is being held tomorrow. Over a hundred people were employed to prepare the decorations, lay out the utensils, gardening, cleaning, cooking and more. Every year, a minimum of a few million dollars are spent for the one day party. What's it for? Just to flaunt their wealth as the Northwest Family of Gravity Falls. They take pride into being the descendants of the founder of the town. Alleged founder. False, actually, Taesan and Wonyoung had found official documents stating that the real founder of the town was actually Quentin Trembley III. However, they thought there was no point in revealing it to the whole town. Your family was way too influential compared to the Pines. At least two people know that Nathaniel Northwest was actually a waste-shoveling, village idiot and they know not to feel envious of your fraudulent family.

"Now where the devil is…" Your mother trails off while turning around to look for you. "Yn! What did I tell you about that dress?!" she yells as she spots you standing in the hallway, wearing a dress in a different color than she had told you to.

"The theme is sea foam green, not lake foam green! Go change your dress!" she crosses her arms over her chest as she glares at you.

"B-but, I kinda like this dres—" The sound of the hand-bell silences you. "Mind your mother, Yn," your father joins.

"But—" he rings the hand-bell once more, a lot firmer than the first time. You knew better than to attempt to get another word out. So you defeatedly walk back to your bedroom to change. However, before you could even get to the hallway to your room, the ground starts violently shaking. You gasp and grip the wall beside you. Instead of the glassware toppling over and shattering, it starts to float with other silverware and furniture. One by one, each of the plates and utensils start flying towards the you and your parents. Panicked screams envelope the room, the staff rush to get away leaving you and your family to yourselves.

Your mother grabs you to her chest whilst looking around for a place to hide in. She ushers you under the wooden table before crawling in herself. "It's happening," she whispers underneath her breath. Her voice was trembling and her breathing was uneven. Despite being enveloped in fear yourself, your eyes roam the room to find your father. He was attempting to intimidate whatever entity was causing the chaos with the newspaper in his hand.

"You are my possessions! Obey me!" Your father yells, throwing the newspaper into the air. Once he realizes that his yelling and the newspaper wouldn't stop anything, he rushed beside you and your mother under the table.

"This is a disaster. The party is in 24 hours," your mother worriedly reminds your father. Of course, despite whatever is happening, your parents are more worried over the party than everyone's well-being and expensive cutlery being shattered to pieces.

"Surely, there's someone who could deal with all these…" your father hopefully mumbles. Coincidentally, the newspaper that he threw at the entity lands right in front of him, but not without a wine glass shattering next to it. The front page unfolds and shows the headline of the week, 'MYSTERY SOLVER CATCHES VAMPIRE BAT.' A photo accompanying it underneath: two policemen and a familiar teenage boy.

"Shit ton of potato chips, one case of root beer and the fluffiest blanket Wonyoung owned. Perfection." Taesan plops down on the rotting armchair owned by his uncle, snuggling into the blanket he stole from his twin sister. He reached out to grab a bag of chips from his left, a can of root beer from the right and the TV remote on the floor. A sigh of satisfaction leaves him as he melts further into the armchair.

"Be strong, bladder. We're not moving until sunset." He mutters, tapping on his pelvis and sipping on his root beer. After a week of nonstop hunting for the author of journal #3 and cleaning up after his twin sister, who decided to mess with a bunch of teenagers' love life with a 'Love Potion' that she stole, this was a well-deserved break. A 48-hour marathon of 'Ghost Harassers' on the Used To be About History channel.

Taesan's show is interrupted when the channel suddenly switches to the news segment. His frustration blocks the sound of the stomping footsteps of three girls approaching the living room after hearing the sound of the news anchor. Before he knew it, his twin sister, Wonyoung and her friends had taken over the living room and television.

"Aw, what?" he irritably mutters.

"It's starting! It's starting!" Wonyoung excitedly beckons her friends over while shoving herself forcefully next to her brother.

"Turn the volume up!" Rei yelped as she squeezes herself next to the twins.

"Make room for me!" Liz exclaimed, taking a spot on the floor.

Taesan was defeated. It's not like he could change the channel because it is the same as his show. Unable to do anything else but wait for the news segment to be over, Taesan is forced to watch what the supposed 'Breaking News' of Gravity Falls was about.

The news showed local journalist Toby Determined, who was camping while waiting in line outside a manor. Toby then reveals he's camping outside the Northwest Manor, waiting to get a glimpse of what this year's "high society shindig ball soiree" would look like. It was an annual gathering hosted by the Northwest Family since 150 years ago, when the mansion was built. Invitations were limited and exclusive only to certain elite, rich and noble individuals.

Elite, rich and noble were not words one would use to describe the Pines twins. Or even the entire Pines family. That's why Wonyoung and her friends, Liz and Rei, are stuck at the old Mystery Shack slash home of their Grunkle tonight. Meanwhile, Taesan sat behind them, impatiently waiting for his show to come back. Although, seeing his sister and her friends excitedly sit cross legged on the floor with their eyes on full focus on the screen, got him slightly curious as to what exactly were they so excited about this party. They've had parties at the shack many times. Okay, maybe just two times. Even that is a stretch because the second time got crashed by zombies when Taesan accidentally raised the dead. But hey, at least they had a blast with blowing up the zombies' skulls with that karaoke machine. Point is, what's so special about this party that it made it to the news?

Taesan scoffs, "Can someone please explain to me why people care about this?"

The three girls gasped and looked at him as if he just asked the stupidest question on the planet. "Hello? This is the best party of all time! Fancy mansion, fancy food and most importantly, fancy boy and fancy accents," Liz dreamily sighs.

"I heard they give away gift baskets that contain ostrich eggs inside!" Wonyoung excitedly chimes in. Rei crawls to the television, she paws at the screen as she whispers while staring closely at it like a possessed person, "Give me your life Yn Northwest. Give it to me."

Taesan rolls his eyes at her shenanigans, "Have you guys forgotten who Yn Northwest is?" The sound of knocking interrupts him. He gets up from his seat to answer it, continuing his piece while doing so. "Her family is a fraud! She is the worst person ever and I will say that to her face."

He twists the doorknob and opens the door. You were standing right outside, hands tugging the scarf over your head downwards and adjusting your sunglasses while, warily looking around for people that might spot you. Can't risk anyone spotting a Northwest near a Pines family member, let alone in the Pines family lot.

"I need your help," You say as soon as it opened.

"You're the worst person ever." Slam. Taesan then turns to face his sister and her friends, sporting an 'I told you so' look on his face.

You stood there frozen in shock. Unable to believe that a Northwest like you was getting this kind of treatment. But you shouldn't have expected better, this was Taesan after all. And you have been treating the twins like shit all summer. So, you swallow your pride and knock once more.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. "Taesan! Open the door! Please!" You had to physically stop yourself from recoiling after saying that. Oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Taesan had to take a deep breath and roll his eyes before turning around and opening the door once more. "What the fuck do you want Yn? I don't like having a Northwest nearby, you make me sick to my stomach."

You could feel your blood boil at his statement and had to remind yourself that you came here to get his help. To do that, you had to keep your mouth shut. "I know I haven't been…friendly with you and your sister this summer—"

"So you're aware that you're an asshole," he cuts you off. Eyebrows raised, arms crossed over his chest and his body leaned against the doorframe. The corners of his mouth tugging upwards so faintly you almost didn't catch it. He was taunting you. You knew it. He was taunting you so you would blow up and then, he'll have an excuse not to do whatever you're about to ask him to. God, you wish you could just punch his face.

"Look, Pines." You remove your sunglasses and looking at him directly in his eyes. "I didn't come here to pick fights with you or your sister. I really, really, really need your help. There's something that's haunting the Northwest Manor and you're the only one I know that could help. Please, there's a party tonight and it cannot be ruined!"

Wonyoung's ears perk up at the mention of the party being held tonight. Knowing her brother, he's probably going to turn your offer down because of his despise towards you and your entire bloodline. She knew she had to make matters into her own hands.

"Why in the world should I agree to th—"

"Hi, Yn! Can you give us one second? Okay, thank you!" She grabs her brother by the arm and once again, the door is slammed to your face. You hoped they make a decision quick because you cannot risk being spotted out here. And the decision better be agreeing to help you or else your father might just sacrifice you to whatever is haunting the manor— just so the party tonight is not compromised.

"Taesan, you have to do it!" Wonyoung grips her brother's arms, shaking him back and forth.

"Have you lost your mind? Wonyoun— This is Yn Northwest! The girl who has been terrorizing you and your friends all summer!" Taesan replies in disbelief.

"I know but if you help her, you can help me, Liz and Rei get into the greatest party of all time! Can't you do it? Please, Taesan?" His twin sister begs, sporting the puppy eyes that she knew he couldn't say 'No' to. He faces the living room and her friends had the same look on their face.

Taesan sighs defeatedly and opens the door again. "I'll do it," he says, extending an arm out for a handshake. Though initially you were shocked, you extend your own to meet his until, he suddenly pulls it back. You looked up at him, confused.

"Only if you to give me three tickets to the party." You scoff at him before reaching out for your purse and grabbing the tickets. You expected it to happen although you hoped it wouldn't. But at least you were prepared.

You hand the tickets to him, "You're lucky I'm desperate."

Wonyoung snatches the tickets out of your hands before you could change your mind and excitedly jumps around in a huddle with her friends.

"Can't believe I'm helping a Northwest." Taesan doesn't give you another look before he turned around to close the door. He fails to see the way you make face, mocking his remark before putting your sunglasses back on and sneaking away from the shack.

The twins and their friends arrive at the Northwest Manor through the limo you're family owned. As expected, Taesan came in his usual cargo pants and dirty looking shirt. 'Couldn't his sister at least put together something decent for him?' You irritably mutter inside your head. You beckon them over and signaled the butlers to open the doors of the mansion.

Wonyoung and her friends let out exclamations of fascination as soon as the doors opened. Taesan simply looked around the place, already looking for clues about what entity was haunting the manor.

"Everything is so fancy…" Liz blurts out while scanning the table full of gift baskets. She excited drags Wonyoung and Rei towards it and they immediately start examining its contents, "The prophecy was true!" Rei gasps in excitement as Wonyoung points at the ostrich egg inside the gift basket.

While the three girls were excitedly exploring the contents of the gift baskets and the interior of the manor, you grabbed Taesan by the arm to introduce him to your parents.

"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour! Welcome to the manor!" Your father happily greets him. "I assume you have been filled in on…your job. Hopefully, you can deal with it before the party starts in an hour."

"I'll do what I can, sir." Taesan replies.

"Amazing!" Your father pulls you aside for a moment, "He's not wearing that, is he?" he points to Taesan's stained shirt and cargo pants look. You sigh inwardly, bothered by his choice of attire to wear at a party. "I'm on it," you assure your father.

You approached the curious Taesan who was already taking down notes on his notepad, "Follow me."

Taesan was utterly confused when he gets pushed into a changing room instead of… well, he didn't know what he expected. It just never crossed his mind that a changing room could be haunted. Was it the floor-to-ceiling mirror? How is this going to affect the party? This is probably what— a category one ghost haunting?

"Is this—"

"There's a tuxedo inside, you're not going hunting until you change into that. No questions, no buts." And just like that, Taesan got shoved further into the changing room and forced to wear a suit. Or tuxedo. He doesn't know the difference, nor does he care.

After a grueling ten minutes, Taesan finally emerges from the changing room. Fiddling with the bow on his neck that he doesn't seem to know how to tie. You let out an exasperated huff before striding towards him and yanking him by the collar towards you.

"Ow. You didn't have to do that, this thing is already strangling me." He grumbles. You yank him once again by the collar to hush him and pretend you were still not done with his bow tie. "Why do I even have to wear this? I'm not going out there in the stupid party to mingle with filthy rich snobs."

Your hands pause at his words. Of course, he wouldn't understand any of this, but he didn't have to call it stupid. As much as you despised these gatherings hosted by your parents, that are so obviously for the purpose of flaunting their wealth, you loved some parts of it. Like the way your father temporarily puts away that stupid hand-bell. And the way your mother gently says your name to introduce you to the guests. These were the only times being a Northwest felt less like a burden and more like…something great. Like you matter in this gigantic manor.

But how would Taesan know that? He's got his twin sister and grunkle. Not to mention the other workers of the shack. You only had the title of being a Northwest. Of course, wearing the perfect sea foam dress matters. That's when you become 'you.'

"What do you know about being a Northwest? You wouldn't understand a thing even if I tell you." You glare at him, hand almost ripping apart the bow tie you tied yourself.

"I know that the Northwest are frauds." He leaned in closer to you. The distance allowed you to smell the peach scent in his breath that you knew came from his addiction of drinking Pitt Cola like it was water. It got you wondering what it tasted like since you weren't allowed to have it. Something about keeping the dignity of a Northwest blah blah blah.

The sound of the thunder snaps you out of a trance you didn't even know you were in. "We need to hurry to the main room. The guests will start arriving soon."

The door creaks as you push it open, revealing the "problem room" as your father referred to it, or the room where the haunting began. It definitely looked like a room where the haunting of an entity could happen. There were taxidermy of various animals hanging on the wall, the furniture looked like it was as old as the manor and the only source of light was the lit fire on the fireplace.

"This is where its been happening, some of the stuff have been moved out of fear of whatever was haunting this would break them again." You explained. Taesan walked further into the room and put down his bag on the floor, bringing out the infamous journal.

"Okay, so, do you have any idea as to why the manor is being haunted? An old enemy of your ancestor or…?" he pulls out some papers, a pen and a mysterious bottle of liquid.

You try to think of anything your father or mother mentioned about the haunting in the manor but couldn't think of anything relevant. "No, I don't think so. What's that for?" You replied, pointing at the bottle.

"You don't have to know," you roll your eyes at his response. "So, all that's happened are floating silverware and other small stuff, right? Nothing else?"

"Yes."

He grabbed the bottle next to his journal and starts reciting something from the book. Then, he writes down on the paper before standing up and giving it to you.

You looked at him confusedly, "What's this for?" Ever the patient boy that he was, he takes matters into his own hands and grabs your arm to stick the paper on it. "Protection."

"Protection?" you repeat his words quizzically. "Is it a demon? The one that's haunting the manor?"

Taesan notices the panic in your tone and shoves his journal in your hands. "Category one, ghost. Weakling. That," he points to the paper he stuck on your arm, "is just for precautions. Just in case its a fashion ghost who's pissed off by your fake hair."

"Hey! These are very much real." You scoff at him. To which he replies with a chuckle and a teasing look. He then proceeds to pull out a device from his bag and starts waving it around while pulling its antenna out.

Taesan starts walking around the room, examining each corner thoroughly until he reached the painting next to a fireplace. The device in his hand starts to malfunction, showing error on its small screen. He frustratedly taps on it, muttering a swear underneath his breath while doing so. You moved closer to him to see what the problem was and suddenly the air turned cold. At first, you didn't realize it but soon, realization sunk into you, that you shouldn't be feeling cold, because you were standing right next to the fireplace.

Your eyes slowly look up to the painting you were standing in front of. You realize something about it felt off. It was a simple piece. A portrait of your younger self. You remember your mother telling you about how she hired an artist from overseas to make it for you. You liked this portrait of yours. You've seen it so many times every time you passed by the room. Hence, you couldn't quite understand why looking at it now, seems like there's something wrong with it that you couldn't point your fingers on.

So you kept your eyes on it.

And the longer you do, the more it felt like you were being sucked in. You don't feel your body move, but the portrait was getting closer and closer to you. Slowly.

"Yn! Hey! What the fuck is happening? Come back to me!" Taesan shakes you by your shoulders, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked at him, puzzled by his questions. Then, you look to your feet and realize that it was covered in mud. It takes you another moment before you notice that the two of you were no longer inside the room nor the manor. You were outside, at the backyard of it. And it wasn't just the two of you anymore. Wonyoung and her friends were there, unlike a few minutes ago, their dresses were ripped and covered in mud. And they all looked like they were in distress. Panicked and jumpy too. Like they were trying to get away from something.

"W-what…why are we here? When did we get here? We were just inside the main room, Taesan. Why am I covered in mud?" your voice trembled as you frantically look around the place. Just a moment ago, you were in the main room looking at your portrait and now you're outside, soaked in the rain and covered in mud. "Taesan, I-I don't— I can't remember anything!" you burst into tears.

Taesan immediately pulls you into his embrace and soothes you to calm you down. "Hey, it's okay. I'm right here, Northwest. I'm right here with you." He whispers into your ear.

Suddenly, an ear piercing shriek from comes from inside the manor. Your head shoots up from his chest and watched him clench his jaw. Taesan looks back at you for a moment before looking at his sister and giving her a nod.

At the same time, you hear one of Wonyoung's friends yell, "It's open!"

Wonyoung grabs you from Taesan's arms and starts dragging you away. You were confused. You're leaving the manor with Wonyoung and her friends but Taesan stood still instead of running with all of you. Your hands grip Wonyoung's, halting her in her steps, "We can't leave Taesan behind."

She looked at you with an unreadable expression, "He's not coming with us."

"What do you mean? I'm not leaving him her—" you attempt to separate yourself from her hold, yanking your wrist from her grip. She signals her friends to help her drag you out and away from the manor.

Your eyes were fixed on Taesan who watched you all run out of the manor, still unmoving from his spot.

"No! Let me go! What are you doing?! You can't just leave your brother, Wonyoung!" you yell at her, still trying to attempt to free yourself from the grip of three people.

"Yn!" Wonyoung yells back. Startling all three of you. No one has ever seen her look like this before. There was rage in her eyes. As well as sadness and...defeat? "I know it's not your fault. But Taesan is doing his best in there to save you and your stupid family!" Wonyoung feels a lump form in her throat and her vision starts blurring. She sniffles and forcefully swallows it despite the pain before looking back at you. "The least you could do right now is follow us home and trust him. Because I trust him."

The air turned solemn when her voice cracked at the end. You really wish you could remember what happened. But you have no idea what happened or what even is currently happening. And you really want to try and understand Wonyoung but nothing is making sense to you.

Suddenly, a headache pierces your skull and you get flashes of imagery in your head. Taesan. Blood. A lumberjack. The headache gets even worse. Your hands reach out for something, someone. Anyone. Your vision blurs and your legs weaken, causing you to fall to your knees, hands gripping at the side of your head. Then, the final image flashes, accompanied by a voice. Taesan's voice. He was telling you to run and cursing out a floating figure.

A triangle.

"Bill Cipher?"

To be continued...

©️ tobiotaesan

If anyone asked you to define your relationship with Myung Jaehyun, the simplest answer would be: friend.

A very close friend, sure. 

A friend who knew how you liked your coffee, what kind of snacks made you feel better after a bad day, and which songs you always skipped because they made you emotional for no reason. A friend who had somehow acquired the deeply irritating habit of showing up with the exact thing you needed before you even had the chance to ask for it. 

A friend who texted you good morning and good night without fail. A friend who held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, like there had never been any universe in which he had to think twice about it. 

A friend who would walk you through crowded streets with a hand at your waist if the sidewalk got too full. A friend who had once appeared at your front door at two in the morning with a bag of snacks, a drink, and the kind of worried expression that made you feel guilty for not having told him you were having a bad day. 

It had been an accident, really. 

A very unfortunate, very human accident that had started with a terrible day at work, a failed attempt at staying composed, and a long, ugly cry into your pillow the second you got home. You had planned to sleep it off and pretend the world had not personally offended you. 

Instead, twenty minutes later, Myung Jaehyun was outside your door in a hoodie and sweatpants, holding convenience store ramyeon and your favorite chips like he had been called in for emergency rescue. 

“You sounded weird in your last text,” he had said, as if that explained everything. 

You had stared at him. “I did not.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“I just said goodnight.” 

“And that’s how I knew.” 

You had wanted to argue, but then he had reached out and patted your head with that stupidly soft expression of his, and suddenly the whole fight had leaked out of your body like air from a popped balloon. 

The worst part was that this wasn’t even unusual. This was just… Jaehyun. 

He was like this with everybody, wasn’t he? 

At least, that was what you told yourself. 

He was warm. Naturally affectionate. Absurdly sweet. The kind of person who seemed physically incapable of letting the people around him feel unloved for more than ten seconds at a time. 

So when he said, “I love you,” over the phone, it did not mean he was secretly confessing to you. It meant he was Jaehyun. When he wrapped his fingers around yours, it did not mean anything either. It just meant he was being Jaehyun. You had repeated this to yourself so many times over the years that it had become a reflex.

Friend. Close friend. Best friend, maybe. Definitely not anything else. 

Which was why, when Sungho asked the question, you nearly choked on your iced coffee. It happened on an otherwise normal afternoon. That was the problem with life, really. It liked to wait until you were most relaxed before it ruined your peace. 

Sungho had texted you earlier that day asking if you were free, and since the two of you were both terrible at saying no to each other, you ended up meeting at a small café tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. The place had soft lighting, a suspiciously calm atmosphere, and a pastry case that made you regret not eating lunch. 

Sungho was already there when you arrived, sitting in a corner booth with two drinks and the kind of expression that immediately made you distrust him. 

“You look like you’re about to say something annoying,” you said as you slid into the seat across from him. He blinked innocently.

“That’s rude.” 

“You are rude.” 

“That’s also rude.” 

You squinted at him. “Why did you ask me here?” 

Sungho leaned back and folded his arms. “Can I not invite my friend out for coffee?” 

“No.” 

“Wow.” 

You reached for your cup. “So?” 

He watched you for a second, like he was mentally choosing between several levels of disaster. 

Then he said, “I need to invite you to my brother’s wedding.” 

You paused. “Your brother is getting married?” 

“Yes.” 

“Since when?” 

“Since a while ago.” 

“You just said it like it was a secret.” 

“It wasn’t a secret. You just don’t listen.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Sungho.” 

He sighed, clearly realizing he was losing the opening round of whatever this was.

“Fine. I also wanted to ask you something.”

That was worse. 

You stared at him over the rim of your cup. “If this is about lending you money again, I don’t have any.”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” 

Sungho took a slow sip of his drink, buying time in the most suspicious way possible. Then he looked at you very directly and asked, 

“Are you and Jaehyun dating?” 

The silence that followed was so sudden, so complete, that it almost had physical weight. 

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then you laughed so hard you nearly dropped your coffee. 

“What?”

Sungho didn’t laugh with you. Which, alarmingly, meant he was serious. 

You coughed, trying to recover. “No. No, we’re not dating.” 

He tilted his head.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

He gave you the kind of look people usually reserved for toddlers insisting they had not eaten the cookie crumbs all over their face. 

You set your cup down carefully. “Why would you even ask that?” 

Sungho’s expression turned deeply unimpressed. “Are you serious? Have you seen how you two act?”

“We act normal.” 

“That is a lie.” 

“It is not.” 

“It absolutely is.” 

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but he was already going on, counting things off on his fingers.

“He holds your hand like he’s been doing it since birth.” 

“He’s just like that.” 

“He says ‘I love you’ to you all the time.” 

“So? He does that to everyone.” 

“He shows up at your place whenever you need him.” 

“He’s a good friend.” 

“He gets worried if you don’t answer his texts fast enough.” 

“He worries about everybody.” 

“He looked for you at two in the morning because he had a nightmare you weren’t okay.” 

That one hit a little harder. You looked away on instinct. 

Sungho kept going, ruthless now that he’d gotten your attention.

“And when he found out you’d had a bad day without telling him, he showed up with snacks like he was your husband.” 

You frowned. “That is a dramatic way to phrase that.” 

“It is an accurate way to phrase that.” 

You crossed your arms. “You’re reading too much into it.” 

“I’m telling you, from the outside, it looks extremely weird.” 

“We’re just close.” 

Sungho’s gaze sharpened. “Are you?” 

The question was simple. Too simple. 

And yet for some reason, it landed with the force of a punch to the chest. You frowned.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” he said carefully, “you don’t even seem interested in dating anyone else.” 

You hesitated. Sungho saw it immediately. Of course he did. He was annoyingly observant whenever he wanted to be. He leaned forward slightly.

“When was the last time you actually tried to look for a relationship?” 

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. That, unfortunately, seemed to be answer enough. 

Sungho pointed at you. “Exactly.” 

You glared. “That does not mean anything.” 

“It means something.” 

“It means I’ve been busy.” 

“With what?” 

You paused. 

Sungho watched you for a moment, then said, much more quietly, “You know why you’re not looking for anyone, right?”

You frowned. “Because I haven’t felt like it?” 

He shook his head. “No. Because Jaehyun is already right there.” 

You stared at him. Sungho didn’t even flinch.

“I’m serious. He texts you first. He checks on you. He shows up when you need him. He holds your hand, walks you home, remembers what makes you feel better, says ‘I love you’ like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and basically does every single thing someone would want from a romantic relationship.” 

You opened your mouth. He kept going before you could interrupt him.

“So why would you go looking for anyone else?” 

That made you go still. 

Sungho tipped his head slightly, his voice calm but maddeningly certain.

“You’re not looking because you already have the emotional part of a relationship with him. The comfort. The attention. The softness. The consistency. So of course everyone else feels unnecessary.” 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, but it came out thin. “That’s not—” 

“Isn’t it?” he asked. 

And that was the problem. Because he was saying it like it was obvious. Like he had just pointed out the sky was blue. Like maybe the reason you had never gone searching for anything else was not because you were uninterested in love— but because Jaehyun had been standing right there, quietly giving you all the things you would normally have wanted from someone else. 

And then, just when you thought Sungho had successfully said the most life-altering thing he could possibly say before lunch, he took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t just rearranged your entire understanding of friendship, romance, and emotional availability. 

You stared at him. He stared back. 

Then, very casually, as if he were changing the subject instead of changing the trajectory of your life, he said,

“Anyway, I have a friend I think you’d get along with.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Sungho’s expression stayed completely normal, which somehow made the situation worse.

“His name is Taesan.”

You just looked at him. He kept going, apparently determined to move directly from existential crisis into matchmaking with no transition whatsoever.

“He’s nice. Funny. Not obnoxious. And I think you’d be a good match.”

You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You think?” 

“Yes,” he said easily. “I do.” 

You folded your arms. “You’re saying this right after you spent ten minutes telling me I’m basically emotionally in a relationship with Jaehyun.” 

“I know.” 

“That is not a normal sentence.” 

“I never said I was being normal.” 

You made a face at him, but Sungho just reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and turned the screen toward you. On it was a contact that said Han Taesan. 

Your eyes flicked up immediately. “You already have his number?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“That’s unsettling.” 

“That’s called being prepared.” 

“You are insane.” 

Sungho ignored that completely and slid his phone across the table toward you. “Here.” 

You didn’t pick it up right away. “What is this?” 

“His number.” 

“I know that.” 

“I thought you might need clarification.” 

You glared at him. “You are one step away from being reported.” 

He smiled like he considered that fair. “I told him I knew someone he might want to meet.” 

Your stomach did a very strange, very immediate little flip. You frowned.

“You already told him?”

“Not details,” Sungho said. “Just enough.” 

“Enough for what?” 

“For him to know you’re real,” he said, completely serious. “And nice. And probably better than what I’m making this sound like.” 

You squinted. “That makes no sense.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Sungho.” 

He raised both hands in surrender, though his grin said he was enjoying this far too much.

“Relax. I’m not forcing anything. I just thought you should talk first, see if there’s any interest, and then I can tell Taesan more properly if you want.” 

You looked down at the phone again. Then back up at him.

“So you’re just handing me a man’s number after emotionally ruining me over another man.”

Sungho considered this. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.” 

You let out a long, suffering sigh and reached for the phone. Sungho looked far too pleased with himself. You snatched it up before he could say anything else.

“You are actually unbelievable.” 

“I know,” he said. “So. Text him.” 

“Now?” 

“No, in six business days,” he said dryly. “Yes, now.” 

You stared at the number on the screen for another second, trying very hard not to think about how your entire afternoon had gone from Jaehyun, friendship, confusion to Taesan, possibility, confusion of an entirely different kind. 

Sungho leaned back in his seat, watching you with a look that was far too satisfied for someone who had just casually introduced a new person into your emotional ecosystem. 

“I’m just saying,” he added, “if you and Taesan click, that might be a much healthier direction.” 

You frowned. “You say that like you haven’t already ruined my current one.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m offering you a better one.” 

You looked at the number on Sungho’s phone for another second, then exhaled and handed it back without typing anything in yet. 

“I’ll think about it first,” you said. 

------------------------

Maybe that was the end of it. Or at least, that was what you told yourself as you left the café with Taesan’s number sitting untouched on your phone and Sungho’s words sitting far more dangerously in your head. 

Because for the next few days, you could not stop thinking about them. Not about the number. Not really. 

You had spent the entire week thinking about Sungho’s words. Thinking about Jaehyun. Thinking about whether the way he touched your hand meant something. Whether the way he looked at you meant something. Whether the way he texted you first, checked on you, showed up, remembered things, worried about you, hovered around you, and loved you in the most casual, devastatingly consistent way possible meant something. 

And once Sungho had put a name to it, once he had made you wonder whether all of that had always meant something more, every interaction you had with Jaehyun suddenly became unbearable to replay in your mind. 

Too soft. Too natural. Too intimate. Too familiar. 

You overanalyzed every single call, every message, every “good morning,” every “I love you,” every second of silence that followed it. 

By the time Jaehyun finally texted you a few days later asking if you were free, you were already in trouble.

jaehyun: hey, are you free later? i can come over if you want :) 

You stared at the message for a long time. Then you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Then back at the message. Then at your reflection again, because apparently your brain had decided this was now a situation requiring active supervision.

You thought about Jaehyun, and eventually started spiraling of the idea that Sungho planted in your brain. That just kept going until you're finally faced with the reality that Jaehyun is still unaware of your one-sided crisis over the status of your friendship with him.

And now that he was actually coming over, the idea of seeing him in person felt somehow more dangerous than any of it. Because in a text, you could pretend to be normal. In person, you had to survive eye contact. 

So naturally, you spent the next forty minutes spiraling over whether your shirt made you look too eager, whether your hair was doing something suspicious, and whether the very concept of lip gloss had suddenly become a trap. 

You had never worn lip gloss for Jaehyun before. Which, unfortunately, meant that the second you did, your own brain immediately betrayed you. 

Why are you wearing lip gloss? Because you have lips? 

You leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting yourself with the level of scrutiny usually reserved for a crime scene, then frowned, washed your face, put the lip gloss back on, took it off again, and then put it back on one final time like that somehow made it less obvious. 

Then your phone buzzed again. 

jaehyun: i’m outside :) 

You nearly dropped it. 

Of course he was already outside. Jaehyun never believed in giving people enough time to prepare for his arrival, which was either very thoughtful or very cruel depending on the day. 

You inhaled sharply, grabbed your bag for no reason whatsoever, checked your appearance one more time, and opened the door before you could convince yourself to fake your own disappearance. 

Jaehyun was standing in the hallway with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a convenience store bag like he had not just casually destroyed your ability to form coherent thoughts. He looked up the moment the door opened, and his face brightened immediately. 

“There you are.”

And then, before you could answer, before you could even fully register that he was here, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a hug so automatic it almost didn’t register as a decision. 

You froze for half a second. Then, because your body apparently still knew what to do around him even when your brain was actively malfunctioning, you hugged him back. 

His arms settled around you with the same easy familiarity as always, warm and secure and completely unfair. He gave you a small squeeze, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his expression had softened in that familiar way that always made your chest feel slightly too full. 

“I missed you,” he said. 

You blinked. It had only been a week. Not even a particularly dramatic week, either. Just one regular stretch of days that had somehow managed to become much more emotionally inconvenient than you would have liked. 

And yet Jaehyun said it like he had been deprived of sunlight. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. You stared at him for a second too long, and he immediately grinned, like he knew exactly what he had just done to your nervous system. 

Then his gaze flicked over you quickly, casually, and somehow that was worse than if he had stared.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. The question alone was enough to nearly short-circuit your entire body. 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“You just.... seem kind of weird.” 

You blinked.

“Weird how?” 

“Not bad weird,” he said quickly, like he didn’t want you to take offense. “Just… weird.”

“That’s incredibly unhelpful.” 

He laughed, and the sound hit you directly in the chest because apparently even that was now a problem. 

“Sorry,” he said, stepping past you into the apartment like he belonged there, because in some deeply unfortunate way, he kind of did. “I brought snacks.” 

Of course he did. Of course he had a bag. Of course he had shown up prepared to solve your mood with carbohydrates and the sheer force of his existence. 

You looked down at the bag. “What did you get?” 

He immediately began listing things like he had not noticed your soul trying to leave your body. “Those chips you like, the yogurt drink you said you wanted to try, and—oh, I also got this because I thought it looked good.” He then held up a small pack of pastries. 

You stared. “You bought those because they looked good?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You bought snacks because they looked good and not because you knew I’d like them?” 

He blinked at you. “Both?” 

That should not have been as devastating as it was. You looked away too quickly, which was a mistake, because Jaehyun had already toe-kicked off his shoes and was now looking around with the same easy comfort he always had, like this place was half his too. 

He set the bag down on the table, then reached out and touched your shoulder lightly. 

“How was your week?” he asked. 

You froze. It was such a normal question. A completely normal, harmless, friend-shaped question. Which somehow made it worse. You had spent the last several days imagining every possibility except being asked something so simple that you didn’t know how to survive it. 

“Fine,” you said. 

Jaehyun made a face. “That was suspicious.” 

“It was not.” 

“It was.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you always walk in and accuse me of lying?” 

“Only when you look like you’re lying.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

He stepped backward and pointed at you. “You’re definitely lying.” 

You wanted to argue, but then he smiled at you with that familiar, soft sort of fondness that had once never felt like a weapon and now somehow absolutely did. 

“Come here,” he said. 

You stared at him. He stared back, expectant. And because you had apparently lost all authority over your own body, you moved before your brain could object. 

Jaehyun immediately reached for you and pulled you into another hug, this one even more automatic than the first, like he had decided that one hug was not nearly enough to account for a week of separation. 

A perfectly normal hug. A friendly hug. A hug that lasted an entirely unreasonable amount of time. His arms settled around you with practiced ease, one hand resting lightly between your shoulder blades while the other gave you a small, absent-minded squeeze like he was checking to make sure you were actually there. 

You, meanwhile, were experiencing a catastrophic internal event. Because of course he smelled the same. Of course he was warm. Of course the hug was effortless enough that your body remembered how to fit into it before your mind had the chance to panic about it.

“Did you miss me?” he asked into your hair. 

You nearly combusted on the spot. The answer was, tragically, yes. 

Not in the way Sungho had tried to suggest, not in the way your brain had briefly betrayed you into wondering, but in the plain, ordinary, deeply inconvenient way that his absence had made your week feel off-balance. 

You swallowed. 

“Obviously,” you said, trying for casual and landing somewhere near tense. 

He hummed like he found that funny, and then he finally pulled away just enough to look at your face. 

There it was again. That soft, open expression he always wore around you. The one that made people assume things. The one that made you assume things. The one that, apparently, meant absolutely nothing except that Jaehyun was Jaehyun. 

Still, you had a sudden and very upsetting awareness of your own heartbeat. 

His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth. You almost died. 

Then he said, “Did you put on lip gloss?” 

You froze so violently it probably should have counted as a medical condition.

“What?” 

His brows lifted, amused. “You did.” 

“I did not.” 

“You did.” 

“I—” 

He leaned in a little, just enough to make the situation spiritually illegal, and then smiled like he was enjoying your suffering far too much. 

“It looks nice,” he said. 

You made a noise that was not human. Jaehyun laughed immediately.

“Why are you acting like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I just insulted your family.” 

“You did not insult my family.” 

“Then why are you blinking like that?” 

You covered your face with one hand. “Go sit down.” 

He grinned, clearly delighted with himself, and finally obeyed. But now you were even more aware of your existence than before, which was a deeply unfair escalation for a regular afternoon. 

You followed him into the living room and sat across from him at an exact, carefully measured distance that was absolutely not suspicious. 

Jaehyun opened the bag of snacks and started distributing items like he was settling in for a perfectly normal hangout. He handed you the chips first. Then the drink. Then the pastry. Then, after a pause, another pastry. 

You stared at it. “Why are you giving me two?” 

“Because you’ll say you don’t want it and then eat mine later.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You make me sound predictable.” 

“You are predictable.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are.”

“You’re being mean.” 

He looked offended. “I’m being normal.” 

That made you look at him too quickly. He just blinked back, entirely unbothered. Of course he was unbothered. He always was. 

He sat beside you with one leg folded under him, leaning back against the couch with the kind of laziness that only existed because he felt comfortable around you. 

That was the problem, really. He looked exactly the same as he always did. Sounded exactly the same. Acted exactly the same. 

And yet now every single thing felt loaded because Sungho had shoved a magnifying glass over your entire relationship and walked away smiling. 

Jaehyun noticed your silence and glanced over.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Liar.” 

You turned to glare at him, but he was already looking at you with concern again, and that was somehow worse than if he had been teasing. 

“What?” you asked. 

“You’ve been weird all week.” 

“I have not.” 

“You have.” 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“You have,” he repeated, and now he sounded genuinely curious. “Did something happen?” 

That made you go still. Because something had happened. Just not something you could explain in a normal way. So instead, you said, “No.” 

Jaehyun frowned. “That was also suspicious.” 

You groaned and leaned back against the couch. “Why are you like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Always noticing when something is wrong.” 

He looked at you for a second, then gave a small shrug. 

“Because I care about you.” 

The answer was immediate. Simple. So simple it should have been easy to hear. 

Instead it made something inside your chest twist painfully, because Jaehyun always said things like that as if they were nothing at all. As if loving people was the most natural thing in the world. As if you were simply one of the people lucky enough to be on the receiving end of it. 

You turned your head slightly before he could catch whatever was written all over your face. 

“Still not telling me?” he asked. 

You sighed. “No.” 

He accepted that with only the slightest sigh of his own, then leaned over and stole one of your snacks anyway.

“Hey.” 

He looked at you blankly. “What?” 

“That was mine.”

He lifted it and took a bite. “It was mine five seconds ago.” 

“You are unbelievable.” 

You hated him a little bit for how easy he made this feel. Hated him a little bit for how much your body still wanted to lean into him out of habit. Hated, mostly, that he could sit here looking at you like this and your first instinct was still not danger, but comfort. 

You looked down at your hands, then finally blurted out, “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 

Jaehyun went quiet. Not long. Just enough. You immediately regretted speaking. 

He blinked once, then turned to look at you properly. 

“Too close?” he repeated. 

“Yes.” 

“Like, in a weird way?” 

You nodded, then immediately wished you hadn’t because now this was real. Jaehyun stared at you for a beat, clearly processing. 

Then he said, very seriously, “Are you asking this because you want me to stop hugging you?” 

Your head snapped up. “What? No.” 

“Because I can stop.” 

“No, don’t.” 

He looked faintly amused now, like he had already decided you were being dramatic, which honestly made things worse.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you muttered. 

“Then what are you implying?” 

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. 

Then finally said, a little too quietly, “Nothing.” 

Jaehyun watched you for another second, then reached over and nudged your knee with his. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “But if something is bothering you, you can always tell me.” 

There it was again. That stupid, gentle honesty. That stupid, steady kindness. That stupid way of making you feel safe enough to forget, for one second, that you were currently standing at the edge of a very confusing cliff. 

You looked at him. He looked back. Then, without warning, he smiled and rested his head lightly against your shoulder. You inhaled sharply.

“Jaehyun.” 

“Mm?” 

“You are doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Being weird.”

He laughed quietly against you. “You’re the one being weird.” 

You stared at the ceiling, helplessly aware of the fact that he had settled there like it was the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe that was the entire point. Maybe this was just Jaehyun. 

Maybe Sungho was reading too much into it. Maybe you were reading too much into it. Maybe— Your phone buzzed on the table. 

You reached for it reflexively, grateful for the interruption, and saw a new message from an unfamiliar number. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a second too long. 

taesan: hi. sungho gave me your number. i hope that’s okay? 

Then, because your body had apparently decided that simple things were now emotionally hazardous, you glanced at the couch. 

Jaehyun was still beside you, still leaning against your shoulder like he had no idea your entire internal world had just tilted off its axis. He was looking down at one of the snacks he had stolen from you, expression calm, posture loose, absolutely unbothered by the fact that he was currently taking up the exact amount of space your attention had somehow forgotten how to stop circling. 

You looked back at the message. And then, with the kind of hesitation usually reserved for life-altering decisions and suspiciously expensive purchases, you typed back. 

you: yeah, it’s okay :) 

you: sungho already told me a little 

The reply came faster than you expected. 

taesan: good 

taesan: i was about to apologize to you and him both 

That made you blink. You hadn’t even met him in person yet, and somehow Taesan already sounded like the sort of person who knew exactly how to respond without making things awkward. Which, unfortunately, only made you more aware that you were currently stuck in the middle of a situation that felt awkward in at least three separate ways. 

You hesitated, then typed again. 

you: it’s fine, really 

you: honestly i’m still trying to figure out what sungho thought he was doing 

A beat passed. 

Then: 

taesan: if it helps, i’m also trying to figure out what sungho thought he was doing 

You stared at the message for a second and let out a soft breath through your nose before you could stop yourself. That, at least, was funny. 

And Taesan’s tone was easy enough that some of the tension in your shoulders loosened by a fraction. Just enough to make the next message feel possible. 

You glanced at Jaehyun again. He was still looking at the snack in his hand, as if the universe had not just handed you a very inconvenient, very interesting new contact and then seated your best friend beside you like a live emotional trigger. 

The thing was, you could probably keep this to yourself. You could probably talk to Taesan for a while, let things develop slowly, and wait until you were less weird about the whole situation before telling Jaehyun anything at all. 

But the longer you sat there, the more uncomfortable it became not to say anything. Not because you needed permission. Just because Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, and he always knew when something was off, and you already had enough tension in your body without adding the weight of secrecy to it. 

So, before you could overthink yourself into silence again, you turned your phone slightly away from him and said, “So, Sungho gave me his friend’s number.” 

Jaehyun looked up immediately. Not sharply. Just enough. 

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “He said I should talk to him.” 

Jaehyun’s expression stayed open, but his gaze shifted toward you with a little more focus now.

“Who?” 

You hesitated. For half a second, you wondered if maybe you really shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe this had been too abrupt. Maybe Jaehyun would think it was weird. Maybe he would be confused, or worse, visibly uncomfortable. The tiny pause in his expression — so brief you might have imagined it — made your stomach flip in an entirely unreasonable direction. 

You suddenly felt stupidly nervous. But you had already started, so you forced yourself to continue.

“Taesan,” you said. 

Jaehyun went quiet. It was not a dramatic silence. Not the kind that stretched and cracked and made rooms feel smaller. Just a pause. A thoughtful one. Still, your brain immediately took it and sprinted straight into disaster. 

Oh no. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Jaehyun had just realized something you had not, maybe he was about to tell you that this was a terrible match, or that he knew something about Taesan that Sungho had conveniently left out— 

Your pulse picked up in a very rude way. You blinked at him, still half-expecting the moment to turn. A pause that lasted too long. A little tightening around the eyes. A question that meant more than it sounded like it did. 

But Jaehyun only looked at you for a second, then gave that same soft, easy smile again. 

“Oh,” he said, like the name had simply clicked into place. “Taesan.” 

You waited. Nothing. 

He wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t looking away. He wasn’t doing anything that suggested he had suddenly decided this was a conversation he did not want to have. 

Instead, he nodded once to himself and said, with complete sincerity, “I know him.” 

That made your stomach do something unpleasantly uncertain. You had been bracing for a reaction that never came.

“Yeah?” you asked, too carefully. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, like there was no reason at all for this to be strange. “He’s a good guy.” 

You stared at him. He smiled a little wider, not teasing, not sharp, just warm in a way that somehow made your confusion worse instead of better. 

“I’m glad Sungho introduced you to him.” 

That was it. That was the whole reaction. No awkward silence this time. No jealousy. No strange tension. No hurt, no concern, no visible shift in the atmosphere at all. 

Just Jaehyun, still sitting beside you like he had not been asked anything remotely important. 

He reached for another snack, tore it open, and continued eating as if the conversation had ended before it had even begun. And somehow that was more unsettling than if he had looked upset. 

Because if he had been jealous, then at least you would have had an answer. If he had gone quiet in a way that felt heavy or strange, then maybe you would have known what that meant. But he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t jealous. 

He was just… fine. Completely, impossibly fine. 

You looked down at your phone again, then back at him, and the questions in your head only multiplied. 

Was he really that unconcerned? 

Had you read the whole thing wrong? 

Was he just good at hiding it? 

Or had there never been anything to read in the first place? 

Jaehyun glanced over at you, caught the expression on your face, and tilted his head.

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

You opened your mouth. Then closed it again. Because now you were not only confused about Taesan. You were also confused about why Jaehyun’s calm felt so much worse than if he had said something honest and messy and human. 

He just waited, patient as ever, snack still in hand. And that made your brain spin even faster. 

You forced yourself to look back down at your phone and gave the smallest shrug you could manage.

“It’s nothing,” you said. 

Jaehyun’s eyes stayed on you for a second longer than necessary. You could feel him looking even without turning back.

Then, sure enough, he lifted one brow, expression mild but unmistakably attentive. “Are you sure?” 

Your first instinct was to overexplain. To scramble. To say something clever or casual or vague enough that he would stop asking questions and go back to being himself. 

But the problem was that Jaehyun always made that hard. He had a way of asking things like he genuinely cared about the answer, but never in a way that made you feel cornered. It was unfair, really. 

You pressed your lips together, then shook your head a little too quickly. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He studied you for another second, clearly unconvinced. 

Then, because he was Jaehyun and because he never pushed where you were trying not to be pushed, he simply hummed and let it go. 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

And then, as if the moment had never happened at all, he leaned back again and reached for another snack. You looked at him for a second longer than you meant to. 

He looked perfectly normal. Perfectly calm. Perfectly Jaehyun. That, somehow, only made the knot in your chest tighter. 

Two weeks passed after that. Two weeks of trying very hard to act normal. Two weeks of overthinking every look, every pause, every casual touch, every tiny bit of attention Jaehyun gave you, while also trying not to overthink the fact that he was still exactly the same. 

That was part of the problem. He had not changed. Not in any way you could actually point to. 

He still texted first. Still remembered the little things. Still laughed easily and made you feel comfortable. Still made it nearly impossible to tell whether the confusion in your head was something real or just something you had created all on your own. 

And that was the part that made you feel guilty. Because the longer you sat with it, the more you started to worry that maybe you were the one making things weird. 

Maybe Jaehyun had never intended for any of it to be read as anything more than affection. Maybe he really was just like this with you because you were close. Maybe Sungho had planted a thought in your head that would not go away now no matter how much you wanted it to. 

And maybe the reason everything felt awkward was because you were the only one making it awkward. Jaehyun, as always, seemed completely unconcerned. He had a knack for making you feel normal even when your own brain was determined to do the exact opposite. 

So eventually, after enough days of spiraling in silence, you decided to keep it to yourself. For now, at least. Maybe one day you would bring it up. Maybe you would ask him if the way he treated you was just Jaehyun being Jaehyun, or if there had ever been some hidden meaning you had been too scared to name. But not yet. 

So instead, you kept your questions tucked away where they could do the least damage. 

And in the meantime, Taesan kept texting. At first, it had been a little awkward. Not in a bad way — just the natural awkwardness of talking to someone new, of not yet knowing where the boundaries were, of figuring out whether your humor matched, whether the silence would be comfortable, whether the conversation would keep flowing once the polite opening messages were out of the way. 

But Taesan made it easy. Very annoyingly easy. He was funny in a dry, understated way that caught you off guard at least once a day. 

He actually listened. He responded like he meant what he said. He had a way of being present without trying too hard, which made the whole thing feel less like an introduction and more like the beginning of something that had the potential to become familiar. 

And, annoyingly, you found yourself looking forward to his messages. Sometimes you would catch yourself checking your phone faster than you meant to, just to see if he had replied. Sometimes you’d reread something he’d said because it was clever, or unexpectedly sweet, or because his jokes had that subtle edge to them that made you smile before you had a chance to stop yourself. 

There was one message in particular you had reread at least four times already, mostly because it had been so casually Taesan that it made your chest feel strangely warm. 

You had told him you were going to be busy for most of the day, and he had replied: 

taesan: then i’ll have to survive the silence 

taesan: tragic, really 

You had stared at that for a full five seconds before smiling to yourself like an idiot. 

And then, because apparently your brain had decided to become your own worst enemy, you reread it later. And again after that. And once more while sitting on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand and an absolutely embarrassing little smile on your face. 

You didn’t even realize you were doing it until Jaehyun’s voice cut through the quiet. 

“Are you smiling at your phone?” 

You nearly dropped it. Your head snapped up so fast it probably should have hurt. 

Jaehyun was standing in the doorway with a paper bag in one hand and a very amused look on his face, clearly having already noticed far too much for your comfort. 

“What?” you said, far too quickly. 

He blinked at you, then glanced pointedly at your phone before looking back at your face. 

“You were smiling.” 

“I was not.” 

“Yes, you were.” 

You frowned and tried to recover some dignity. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do know that.” 

“Why were you looking?” 

He stepped fully into the room, still wearing that same calm expression that always made it impossible to tell whether he was being nosy on purpose or just naturally attentive. 

“Because you were making a face at your screen,” he said. “It was suspicious.” 

“It was not suspicious.” 

“It was a little suspicious.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re being weird.” 

Jaehyun looked personally offended by that. “I’m being observant.” 

You made a small, annoyed sound and turned the phone face-down on the bed, which only made him grin more. 

Then, because he was apparently determined to be impossible, he nodded toward the phone and said, very casually, “Is that Taesan?”

You froze. That, more than anything, was what made you look at him properly. 

Not because he’d asked. Because he had asked in exactly the tone he would have used if he were asking about the weather, or snacks, or whether you wanted the window open. Not because he sounded suspicious. Not because he sounded upset. Not because he sounded jealous. 

Just… curious. And that was what left you completely baffled. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Taesan,” Jaehyun repeated, like he hadn’t just casually stepped directly onto the minefield in your brain. “You’ve been talking to him recently, right?” 

You stared at him. He stared back, totally normal. 

You had expected— Well. Something. A raised brow that meant more than the words themselves. A second too long of silence. Anything that would confirm that the things you had spent the last two weeks obsessing over were real enough to be noticed. 

But Jaehyun just looked… fine. No strange expression. No hint that he was about to say something that would make your stomach drop. And that somehow made you more nervous than if he had. 

“Yeah,” you said carefully. 

His mouth curved slightly. “Mm. I could tell.” 

You blinked. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He shrugged, the movement lazy and easy. “It means you look happy.” 

That made you go very still. Because he wasn’t teasing in a sharp way. He wasn’t making fun of you. He just said it like it was obvious. Like it was perfectly normal for you to be smiling at your phone because a man named Taesan had texted you something mildly charming. 

And somehow that was devastating in a completely different direction. You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Jaehyun noticed, of course he did, and his expression shifted into the smallest bit of amusement.

“What?” he asked.

You frowned at him.

“Why are you saying it like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like that’s not weird.” 

His brows lifted slightly. “Why would it be weird?” 

You stared at him for a long second. Because that was the thing. It should have been weird. At least a little. 

If you had read the situation correctly, if there had really been some hidden something in the way Jaehyun acted around you, then surely this would have changed the atmosphere, just a little. Surely he would have been different about Taesan. Surely he would have at least looked uncomfortable, or irritated, or worried, or— But he didn’t. 

He just stood there in your doorway, looking mildly entertained and entirely normal, like he had not just watched you smile at a text from another guy and immediately decided it was something worth teasing you about. 

Which was honestly so much worse. Because now you had no idea what to do with him. Or with yourself. Or with the fact that Taesan’s texts could make you smile like that, and Jaehyun could catch it, and still somehow not make the whole room feel strange. 

You looked at Jaehyun with a kind of baffled frustration that had nowhere to go. He only gave you a soft, unreadable smile and set the paper bag down on your desk. 

Then he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Anyway, I brought you something to eat.” Just like that. 

And as he walked further into the room, already asking what you wanted from the bag, you were left sitting there with your phone in your hand and a dozen new questions in your head. 

Why wasn’t he weird about this? Why wasn’t he upset? Why did he sound happy for you? 

And, worst of all: Why did that make you feel even more certain that you were the one overthinking everything?

------------------------

“honey, won’t you come to bed now?” you place his tea down on his desk, far away enough from any important sketches. you balance yourself on a hand set down right by the sketchbook he’s currently using, the other on your hip.

“in a bit, my love. i’ve still got a lot to finish.” his fingers don’t loosen their grip on the pencil. he’s currently working on one of his many projects he’s yet to finish. you’ve lost count on what number this one was. he gets so excited with the many ideas he comes up with that he has to start new sketches before he loses them.

while it is his job and a job he’s extremely passionate about, you care about his well being. self care comes first in your eyes.

“while i’d hate to disturb your current creative flow,” you bring a hand to his hair, combing through it. “it is just about to be 2 in the morning and you need your rest.”

“there’s so much left to do, though.” he finally looks up at you. ah, there are those beautiful eyes that you love so much. always hunched over a sketchpad you don’t really get to see them until you force him away.

“donghyun,” you hold his face in your hands. you see how prominent his eye bags are. you reach for his glasses gently pulling them off and setting them on the desk. “your eyes are practically begging for sleep.”

you see the way he’s pouting at you like a child begging for more time to play, but rest is rest and it is very much needed.

“i made you some chamomile tea,” you turn to grab the cup the liquid inside probably cool enough to sip. “here.”

“i’m sorry it’s always the same thing every night.” his shoulders drop and he grabs the tea cup from you, taking a sip. “you shouldn’t have to take care of me like i’m a child.”

“i understand that this is your passion and i don’t mind it, but i also want you to stop neglecting yourself. i need you healthy and alive.” you joke.

he laughs and sets the cup back onto the plate. his hands reaching for your waist. “how about we spend a day together tomorrow? i’ll put the sketching to the side and you could have me all to yourself.”

“hm, i’d like that.” you lean down to leave a kiss on his forehead. “will you join me in bed now?”

“of course, my love.”